


Hello, I'm... Nothing. Nobody.

by marxeism



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst, Drabble, Emotions, Hurt, Hurt No Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Pity Party, Peter's inferiority complex, Peter's just a kid guys, Peter-centric, Tony Stark makes mistakes sometimes, he's just a kid, he's so precious, spider son
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-08-16
Packaged: 2018-12-15 22:29:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,277
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11815467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/marxeism/pseuds/marxeism
Summary: Trapped and suffering under concrete and rubble, Peter has some time to reflect about who or what he is.And then there’s Peter. Peter knows that even wearing his multimillion dollar Stark Industries supersuit, he probably causes more damage than he absolves. And once his suit is taken away, he really is nothing. All Peter is, all he ever has been, and all he ever will be is a poor orphan from Queens. He’s the type of kid that gets bullied, the kid who’s only ever recognized as the butt of jokes. He used to be the kid with the Stark Internship, but now he’s even lost that.Now he’s going to be the Sophomore who abandoned the beautiful, popular, Senior girl at the homecoming dance. He’s going to be the guy who dies in a ‘freak accident’ dressed in comically bright sweats, pretending to be Spider-Man.





	Hello, I'm... Nothing. Nobody.

**Author's Note:**

> My take on the moments where Peter is trapped under the building

_ “I wanted you to be better,” Mr. Stark said, bitter disappointment dripping from his voice, and maybe Peter could have handled it, maybe it would not have hurt so much if Mr. Stark wasn’t actually there in person, brown eyes hard and sad. But Tony Stark had not sent a remote-controlled suit this time, he was really there. When his long time hero sighed, Peter could practically hear the man’s voice in his head, admitting that recruiting Peter had been a mistake from the very beginning. The regret born from his obvious lapse of judgement was nearly palpable in his voice when he said, “I’m going to need the suit back.” _

_ Peter could have sworn that his heart stopped cold in his chest that moment. He could not go back to the days before Spider-Man, when he was still just a useless kid, he couldn’t. Spider-Man had saved lives, he had stopped crime, and he had stood up for the little guy when nobody else would, and yet, all Peter could manage was a short pitiful sentence: “I’m nothing without this suit.” He pleaded, angry at the whine in his own voice. But it was true. He was nobody.  _

_ Mr. Stark’s eyes went cold, his face hard, “If you’re nothing without this suit, then you shouldn’t have it.” _

And God, he was right. Peter should have never been given the suit. It had been nothing but a problematic boost to his misguided, cocky self-confidence. 

Peter wants to apologize, for everything. He had been nothing but a problem since the very beginning. If he’d had the heart to tell Mr. Stark the truth, then none of this would have happened. The day that his hero appeared in his apartment, sitting on his couch, Peter should have admitted that he was not anything near extraordinary, that he could become nothing besides a nerdy teenager, reading maps for old women in exchange for churros. 

And Peter knows that this is not how heroes are supposed to be. They aren’t supposed to be taken down by their date’s father pushing some rubble onto them. Peter is literally trapped and incapacitated under a little bit of concrete, and he knows it’s not supposed to be this way. But, then again, Peter isn’t a real hero, is he?

Mr. Stark’s words reverberate in his head, each time more venomous, angrier. 

_ If you’re nothing without the suit, then you shouldn’t have it.  _

And Peter thinks about the men and women he looks up to. Iron Man, without his armor, is still Tony Stark, a successful billionaire with enough intelligence and resources to simply build another Iron Man. Captain America, without his shield, even without his friends, perseveres. Not even to mention the absurd speed, strength, and endurance. And then there was Bruce Banner, a genius who, even without the hulk, diligently saves the lives of people who had nothing else. 

And then there’s Peter. Peter knows that even wearing his multimillion dollar  _ Stark Industries _ supersuit, he probably causes more damage than he absolves. And once his suit is taken away, he really is nothing. All Peter is, all he ever has been, and all he ever will be is a poor orphan from Queens. He’s the type of kid that gets bullied, the kid who’s only ever recognized as the butt of jokes. He used to be the kid with the Stark Internship, but now he’s even lost that. 

Now he’s going to be the Sophomore who abandoned the beautiful, popular, Senior girl at the homecoming dance. He’s going to be the guy who dies in a ‘freak accident’ dressed in comically bright sweats, pretending to be Spider-Man. 

Because, right now, Peter is pretty sure he is going to die here. There’s just so much pain. There’s agonizing pressure on his chest and legs, and every time he breathes out his lungs constrict that much more. His reflection watches him from a puddle of water (and Peter doesn’t want to think too much about that red tint), reminding him just how much of a failure he really is. 

_ I wanted you to be better. _

Mr. Stark’s voice repeats in his mind. And Peter wants himself to be better too. He just… He isn’t. He wishes that he could say that it isn’t his fault that Mr. Stark misjudged his character, but he knows how much time and effort the man put into Spider-Man, and Peter knows that this is really all on himself. 

And then he thinks about Aunt May, and the extent to which he has failed her as well. May has been nothing but kind to him. When Ben died, May put her needs second to Peter’s. She had told him confidently that she would raise him right, and she tries so hard. But Peter just has to go and ruin that as well. He knows that she has been worried sick over him. She thinks that he has been doing drugs, or binge-drinking alcohol, and he just lets her believe it. That’s easier than telling her the truth. His relationship with her has been based on nothing but lies for the past few months, and she really, really doesn’t deserve that. 

And Peter can’t believe that he is giving up after all her hard work. After all of Mr. Stark’s hard work. He knows how selfish he is. He knows that if he leaves her now, Aunt May has nobody. And he can’t do that to her. He just can’t. 

But when he tries to push the debris off of him, when he tries to call for help nothing happens, and Peter can’t think of a way out of this mess he has gotten himself into. He tries to pick himself up again, and this time the rubble does shift. For a moment, Peter feels a sense of ecstasy. For a moment, he thinks he’s strong enough. For a moment, Peter believes that he may be something even without the suit. He believes that he can get himself out. 

But that moment ends. Quickly, the concrete settles back into place and his body screams protest. His sight dimms, the world goes silent, and Peter can’t think or feel anything besides  _ painpainpain.  _ It takes all he has not to scream, but by the time the  _ hurt _ dulls enough for Peter to come back into reality, his cheeks feel wet and his throat feels raw. 

_ I wanted you to be better.  _

The unspoken  _ I thought you were better. _ And Peter truly, honestly wishes he were. 

Mr. Stark is not a perfect person. Nobody is. And, despite Peter’s guiltless fanboy ideations, he knows this. He can admit that Mr. Stark could have been wrong. The man is a genius, no doubt, but he makes mistakes. Despite this, Peter does not have any intention to be the reason his role model misjudges. Peter knows that he is the error, the one thing that goes wrong in any experiment, the reason for multiple trials. 

He doesn’t want to be. Peter decides to try harder, to ignore the pain, to push against the doubt and hesitation. He’s the only person who can stop Toomes, so he has to become more than Peter Parker. Even if he does fail, at least he tries. So he braces himself and groans and tries not to let the pain get the better of him when he finally does manage to move the great concrete slab. 

He really, really hopes that Mr. Stark’s efforts aren’t wasted on a quitter from Queens. He doesn’t wait to chase after the Vulture, and he hopes that maybe,  _ maybe,  _ Mr. Stark can be proud of him. 


End file.
